


A Simple Misstep

by MirandaRoseOfSkywall (lostinmymindforever)



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: Established Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, Spells Gone Wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7442038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinmymindforever/pseuds/MirandaRoseOfSkywall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was once place that Anduin Lothar had seen far too often recently it would have to be Stormwind’s jail. He stood behind the bars, glaring out at the soldiers who stood guard. Turning angrily, he looked at his cellmate, the young man still unconscious from the blow he had taken to his head. The anger drained from Lothar’s face and he went over to Khadgar’s prone form, grimacing at the sight of dried blood on the side of the young mage’s face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Simple Misstep

If there was once place that Anduin Lothar had seen far too often recently it would have to be Stormwind’s jail. He stood behind the bars, glaring out at the soldiers who stood guard. Turning angrily, he looked at his cellmate, the young man still unconscious from the blow he had taken to his head. The anger drained from Lothar’s face and he went over to Khadgar’s prone form, grimacing at the sight of dried blood on the side of the young mage’s face.

He was still checking out the wound on Khadgar’s forehead when he heard footsteps enter the jail, the hurried footfalls, some the metal thud of soldiers boots, some the softer cloth or leather of a healer or someone else. He heard the guards being dismissed by a young, yet commanding voice that held just the slightest tinge of anger in it.

“Your Highness,” one of the guards complained, and Lothar’s head turned quickly to see just who had entered the prison.

There were three of them, two males and a female, none of whom Lothar recognized.

“I said, you are dismissed,” the younger of the three stated firmly, his voice firm.

“Yes, Prince Anduin,” the guard said, following his men out of the jail.

‘Prince Anduin?’ Lothar thought, confusion written clearly on his face. Just where or when did his mage get them this time.

Lothar heard the lock being opened, and watched as the one who had been called “Prince Anduin” entered the cell, ignoring Lothar completely, making his way purposely to Khadgar’s side. Lothar was no magic user, no healer, but even he could feel the waves of power pouring off the young man as he placed his hands over Khadgar, sending healing magic into the young mage.

The woman, the only one in armor, though it barely covered her tall, faintly purple skin, stood guard, watching at the doorway, as if preventing anyone from seeing what was going on here. Lothar knew that she was an elf, but of what kind he had no idea. She was at least a full foot taller than himself, much taller than any elf he had possibly seen before.

The other man, an older man, stood outside the cell, watching everything with a measured gaze as if studying what was going on in great detail. There was something strikingly familiar about the man, though Lothar couldn’t say just what that was.

Lothar heard more footsteps, the soft padding of fur on stone, and watched as a beast, something unlike any animal he had ever seen before padded into the jail, coming to rest at the elf’s feet, giving a soft whine until she ran her long fingers over it’s head in a loving gesture. ‘Her pet, perhaps,’ he thought watching as it gave a contented snort before lying down, eyes wide open, but resting nevertheless.

“Easy, easy, you took a nasty hit to the head,” Lothar heard the young man, the Prince, say and turned to see him helping Khadgar into a sitting position.

Lothar moved to assist, letting out a relieved sigh at the small smile Khadgar gave him.

“Who are you?” the Prince asked finally, after Khadgar was seated.

“I am Regent Lord Anduin Lothar, and this is the Guardian, Khadgar,” Lothar spoke.

“You lie,” the older man said, speaking for the first time.

“I can assure you that he is not lying,” Khadgar spoke, his voice sounding a bit tired.

“Archmage,” the Prince said, a tone of warning in his voice. He turned his attention back to Lothar and Khadgar, asking, “And how did you come to appear in the middle of the King’s chamber this morning?”

“I was planning on testing out a new teleportation spell. Lothar, being the worrywart he is, told me that he’d only allow me to do it if he was there. I did the spell, and the next thing I knew I was getting hit in the head by a polearm.”

“Archmage, would it be possible for a teleportation spell to accidentally send someone to the wrong reality, the wrong timeline?” the Prince asked, his voice thoughtful.

“Perhaps.”

The Prince nodded once, “Then I believe you owe these two an apology for claiming that they are liars.”

The elf laughed musically from the doorway, her beast raising it’s head in confusion before settling back down at her side.

“You would find this amusing, General,” the old man, the Archmage, said, exasperation in his voice.

“You’ve given me enough orders lately, it’s only fitting you get some of your own,” she said. Turning her attention to the Prince, she spoke, “If there is nothing else you need of me...”

The Prince nodded, and Lothar watched as she strode out of the prison, her beast at her side.

“My apologies, Sir Lothar, Guardian Khadgar,” the Archmage said, and Lothar still tried to understand why the man seemed so familiar to him.

“Accepted,” Khadgar said, always more willing to forgive faster than Lothar was. “We are in Stormwind, aren’t we?” The Prince nodded and Khadgar said, “Well, at least I didn’t screw that up.”

“Khad, don’t,” Lothar said softly. He hated it when the mage spoke poorly of himself, and he’d tried for months now to break the young man of that nasty little habit.

“Follow me,” the Prince said, walking out of the cell.

Lothar, not wanting to stay in the prison longer than necessary helped Khadgar stand, and followed the Prince out of the prison, Khadgar at his side, the oh so familiar Archmage following them closely. They made their way through the city, heading towards the castle, and Lothar couldn’t help but take in how different this Stormwind seemed than his own. The differences were subtle, but they were there. He hadn’t paid attention earlier, as they were being taken to the prison, his attention at the time focused on his mage, but now he allowed himself to look around, scanning the city streets. There were statues he had never seen before, people who were alien to him, everything just slightly off from the Stormwind he knew.

Khadgar noticed the guards, slowly, quietly following them, as if ready to jump in at a moment’s notice if there was trouble, and he assumed it was for the Prince’s benefit. He let out a gasp as a blue skinned being flew overhead on what appeared to be a dragon, the man waving down at them, and the Prince returning the wave with a smile.

Finally they arrived at the castle, walking straight towards the King’s Chamber, the Prince waving off the guards as he led their procession. He stopped before the throne, frowning a bit at his father. “You had them locked up without even finding out who they were or having a healer come and deal with his injuries,” the Prince said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Anduin. They just appeared in the throne room. He,” King Varian Wrynn said, pointing at Lothar, “was armed. What was I expected to do? Allow potential assassins free reign in Stormwind.”

“They are not of our world, Father. They,” and the Prince was now the one gesturing, pointing first to Khadgar and then Lothar, “are Guardian Khadgar, and Sir Anduin Lothar.”

The King looked closely at them, and Lothar felt that feeling of familiarity once more as the man eyed him up, “Sir Lothar did not look like that, Anduin. And as the Archmage can inform you, he never looked the way the one you call Khadgar does.”

“Your Highness,” the Archmage spoke, “perhaps things are different in the world they come from. Perhaps Khadgar was never cursed as I was. As for Lothar… I’m sure there is some explanation.”

“Cursed? Cursed by who?” Khadgar asked, looking at the Archmage, realizing exactly who the man was.

“There will be time for explanations later,” the King said, his voice firm. “Now tell me, just what are you doing here?”

“I was attempting a new spell,” Khadgar said, returning his attention to the King. His eyes widened in recognition, “Though it appears instead of teleporting us to our own Stormwind it has brought us to yours.”

They spent much time going back and forth, trying to answer the King’s questions as best they could before they were led to a set of rooms. Even though it wasn’t in the prison, and there was ample room and a large bed to sleep on, Lothar knew it was as much a cell as the one they had been in earlier. He could see the shadows of the guards feet under the door, and stalked over to where Khadgar sat on the edge of the bed.

“This is my fault,” Khadgar said, his voice quiet, that edge of self-blame heavy in it, and Lothar hated it. He hated how much Khadgar seemed to think so little of himself, of his abilities. He’d tried breaking his mage of that bad habit, to make him see how worthy of praise he was, but still when things went wrong Khadgar would slip back into those thoughts.

Lothar knew how to stop the on coming storm that was brewing in Khadgar’s mind, he had to distract his mage. It was something he was finding himself quite skilled at. He turned Khadgar’s face to his own, cupping the younger man’s cheek in his palm, before kissing him deeply, kissing him until Khadgar stopped over-thinking, until his mage only had thoughts of them in his mind.

Khadgar pulled at Lothar’s shirt, needing to touch the firm skin of his lover’s body, and smiled against Lothar’s lips as the older man assisted him in removing the offending garment. They pulled apart, both of them with kiss swollen lips, their eyes blown wide with desire. Swiftly they undressed, Khadgar lying back upon the soft bedding, pulling his lover down on top of him. He hissed in pleasure as their skin came in contact, running his hands over the scared, muscled flesh that drove him almost mad with desire.

Lothar smirked, loving the small little gasps of pleasure Khadgar made as he ever so slowly rocked against Khadgar’s body, their hard cocks dragging against each other, causing sparks of pleasure to race up and down both of their spines. He kissed Khadgar again, over and over, making his mage moan loudly, feeling his lover’s hands running along his skin, enjoying the slight edge of pain whenever Khadgar’s fingers would dig into his flesh.

“Stop teasing,” Khadgar begged, wrapping his legs around Lothar’s body, arching his hips up invitingly.

Lothar smiled, stealing one more kiss before moving his hand down, down, down Khadgar’s body slowly, almost growling in desire when he reached his lover’s hole, still wet and slick and slightly stretched from their lovemaking session they had shared before Khadgar had attempted his spell. He went to place his fingers inside, but Khadgar’s shaking head stopped him.

“I need to feel it,” Khadgar whispered, and if the blood in his body hadn’t been pooling in his groin he was certain he would have blushed at those words.

Lothar growled, low in his throat. It wasn’t often Khadgar wanted it this way, wanted it rough, wanted it to hurt a bit, but by the Light, when he did Lothar was damned if he wouldn’t give his lover all he desired. He moved his hand once more, this time up Khadgar’s body as he repositioned himself, entering the mage in one hard, swift thrust that made them both cry out in pleasure.

Khadgar moaned Lothar’s name, grabbing the older man by the hair and dragging him in for a kiss. He loved this, loved the man who was doing this, loved Lothar more than he had ever loved anyone or anything in his entire life. He dug his heels into Lothar’s ass, cursing as Lothar thrust into him, again and again, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh loud in his ears.

The way Khadgar pulled at his hair was almost painful, but it sent chills of pleasure through his body. By the Light Lothar loved making his mage fall apart like this. He could already see the blueish light coming into Khadgar’s eyes, and placed his hand over the mage’s mouth, silencing him. And if that didn’t make Khadgar go even more crazy, bucking under him, pulling even harder on Lothar’s hair, clawing at Lothar’s back with his other hand. He could feel Khadgar tense beneath him, the younger man’s body going rigid before convulsing almost viciously as he came.

Lothar’s shout echoed off the walls as he came, letting his hand fall from Khadgar’s mouth, the room being filled almost instantly in almost blinding light, books and papers and other things flying around the room in the arcane torrent unleashed by the mage. Lothar collapsed onto Khadgar’s chest, both of them breathing hard, laughter pouring from their mouths as their bodies came down from their climaxes.

The door was flung open, the guards, along with the Prince, whose face was stained scarlet at the sight before them, and the Archmage, who looked at them in shock, rushing in to see what the commotion was.

Lothar grabbed the blanket, covering himself and Khadgar from prying eyes, glaring a bit at the interruption. He watched as the Prince quickly hurried out of the room, embarrassment on his cheeks. The guards, looking to the Archmage for orders, left soon after. The Archmage was the last to leave, shaking his head with an amused grin on his face. Lothar was certain that, even for a brief moment, the Archmage had been checking him out and liked what he saw.

“He would find you appealing,” Khadgar said, his voice a bit slurred with sleepiness.

“Oh? And why is that, My Heart?”

“He’s me. At least this realities version of me. Of course he’d want you.”

“He can’t have me.”

Khadgar chuckled, “No, he can’t. You’re my Anduin Lothar. He can find his own.”

Lothar chuckled at those words, turning them so that Khadgar was on his chest, and they slept.

When morning came they were awoken by a knock on the door and swiftly dressed before answering it. The Archmage stood on the other side of the door, a wrapped bundle in his arms.

Lothar motioned for him to enter, and watched, still wary, as the older man did. He set the bundle down and Lothar saw it was filled with scrolls and texts, impossibly more than a bag that size should be able to hold, but then again the man, this older Khadgar, was an Archmage, so there was no knowing what sort of spells he had access to.

“Our records. Histories of the wars we have been in since… since your time, as it were. Lists of alliances and enemies. This will be of assistance to you, I believe.” He turned to face Khadgar, pulling something, a small object covered in runes, out of his pocket, and handed it to the younger mage, “This will be useful for you, I’d wager. Wait to use it until you are back in your own world.”

At Khadgar’s confused look Lothar spoke, “What is it?”

“My knowledge. All the spells I have learned in my years,” he touched his forehead, then reached out to tap the small object, “your Khadgar will find them useful.”

Khadgar smiled, nodding at the older mage with thanks in his eyes.

“Come now, young ones. I’ve figured out what went wrong in your spell. I will send you back to your own world.”

They followed the Archmage out of the castle, past the guards, into the outskirts of the city, to a private wooded spot. The Archmage made his portal, nodding at them to enter, and then walked away as they vanished.

Khadgar found himself leaving the portal alone, feeling a sense of terror when he noticed Lothar was not in sight. His mind felt a bit fuzzy, as if, as if two sets of memories were merging into one. He heard the guards, and found himself pulled away from the body he’d been examining, and realized they had not only been sent back to their own world, they’d, or at least he’d, been sent back to shortly before he’d even met Lothar.

When Lothar walked into the room they were holding him, like the first time this had happened, Khadgar found himself pinned to the table, Lothar over him. Unlike that time, though, the older man kissed him, giving him a brief wink before leading him out of the barracks and making their way swiftly towards Goldshire.

They both knew they’d have a lot of explaining to do, but at the same time knew without a doubt that their accidental trip into another Azeroth, into another time, would end up hopefully saving them all.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone wondering, the Night Elf who came in with Khadgar and Prince Anduin is my main, a Night Elf Hunter named Mirandarose and her pet was a quilen (something that neither Lothar or Khadgar would have encountered before)


End file.
